


Call of Duty

by not_rude_ginger



Series: The Andorian Tales [1]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 13:22:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3448721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_rude_ginger/pseuds/not_rude_ginger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jhamel wants to ease Shran’s mind and heart, but the call of the Imperial Guard can never be ignored.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call of Duty

Shran was sleeping in her nest, curled up on his side. There was a space in among the furs and silks that would have fit her, with him wrapped around her body, holding her close. Jhamel knew this because she had just left the space and Shran had not moved. Her antennae stretched and skimmed the air, sensing his stillness, his relaxed body. His deep breathing filled her ears and she thought he sounded more content than he had in a while. Then again, he had been in pain for a long time, from the ritual flogging of his Clan Leaders for his failings.

Failings. Jhamel did not perceive that Shran had failed in any way. No one could have known that the small Tellerite Freighter would turn out to be a hidden weapon of destruction. But Shran thought he had failed, and so did his people. But, in their own, violent way, they had forgiven him.

Jhamel, shaken by Gareb’s death had been so horrified when, as she had helped Shran out of his clothing while he licked her neck, her fingers had brushed huge, open wounds on his back that she had pushed him away. But his pain at the touch and the rejection had made her apologise at once and reach out to him again, this time drawing him to her to let him explain it to her.

“My people, we believe in harsh punishment for great failings. But when the punishment is done, we are forgiven. I may have lost a lot of skin from my back, but the day when I rise and find they have healed completely, will be the day I have earned the forgiveness of my Clan, my society, and of the families who have been wounded by the loss of members. Do you understand that there are now six hundred and seventy two offspring without parents because of the Kumari’s destruction? Eight actives lost, all of whom had three other life mates, so that’s thirty two Active plus fifty nine Secondaries all dead because of the Kumari’s loss and my failure to protect them!”

His grip had been tight on her leg as he tried to keep calm and failed utterly. Jhamel had made a soft noise to soothe him, not quite as good as a chan’s trill, but it seemed to ease his pain as he rested his head on her naked lap and started listing the names of those he had lost. There was a wound for each name. Ninety two names, it was a wonder Shran still had a back left.

“Urnas… Erib… Jelkerita… Chedem… Talas.”

Jhamel had wept for each person, and wept harder when Shran said, “Talas’ Clan was kind to me, they only requested ten extra lashes for my actions leading to her death. And then Clan Zhen order seven more for letting Captain Archer humiliate me in the Ushaan.”

A hundred and nine lashes. It was a wonder he could walk.

“So much pain… for something you could not stop.”

Shran had lifted his head and pulled away from her, irritated. “You don’t understand! You’re a pacifist, you don’t see the usage of pain and punishment.”

“You are right.” she told him, “I don’t.”

Shran had walked away, his bare feet smacking on the hard floor as he went. Jhamel had remained on her nest, bereft and disappointed. Her hope had been to explore all facets of this new friendship, to ease both their minds from turmoil and grief. It seemed she had failed.

It was over an hour before he came back. Jhamel had redressed and was listening to some music when he walked back in.

“You don’t have any decent geothermal pools.” he had told her as he sat next to her, smelling of minerals and ice. “How do you swim?”

“We don’t.” she said, realising by the feel of his leg against hers, that he had walked through her city naked. Then again, he probably had neither cared, nor considered it an issue since her people were blind. “Swimming is not something we do.”

“Because you can’t see or because you don’t like it?”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“Then how do you eat? Surely hunting is against your pacifistic nature.”

“We’ve learned to cultivate plants in special pools, but we do hunt. That’s different.”

“If you say so.” he dismissed. She sighed quietly. He would probably never understand her people’s nature, just as she did not understand his. The feeling of his wounds under her hands made her shiver and she forced herself to touch his shoulder. Her fingertips brushed the highest of his wounds and he hissed quietly.

“I would not like it if we could not come to some understanding.” she said in a soft voice.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, and she realised he was no longer irritated with her, and had set the argument from his mind. She wished to discuss it further, but she could sense that he would not appreciate that.

Mercurial Andorian.

Shran’s hands cupped her face and he brushed his nose against hers, sending sparks of desire through her body. She smiled as what she perceived as his colour became brighter and stronger when they came together, but she skirted around his back, afraid of harming him. For the next eighteen days they did little but explore the caves and tunnels of the Northern Wastes and enjoy each other’s bodies. Shran refused her offers of treating his wounds, because that went against tradition, so she gave up after five days. But she noticed that the wounds, although they had already been old by the time she had discovered them, were healing quickly now.

Jhamel respected Shran’s order to stay out of his mind, sensing the pain in his mind when the relevant memory came to him. But he was a horrible broadcaster, almost shouting out to the world that he was there, so it was easy to sense things from him. So she did notice there was an easing and relaxing of his mind and feelings as they spent time together. It made her proud, that he was letting her help him.

Now, as Shran slept in her nest, she was certain it was the most content he had been in years.

And it was right then she sensed another Andorian entering her city.

Jhamel sighed and drew her veil around her. There was only one reason for another Andorian to be here. They were looking for Shran. She went to meet them, her people quietly transmitting the responsibility to her.

Jhamel sensed the regal bearing of this Andorian as she neared them. There was a coolness about this person, detachment and self-containment which intrigued her as much as Shran’s fiery aura had.

“You, Aenar.” The smooth, unmistakable sound of a chan. “I seek an Andorian named Commander Shran.”

Jhamel turned her head towards the voice and perceived what she imagined Shran would call a glittering. It was the only word that came to her mind as she stepped closer to this chan.

“I know him. My name is Jhamel.”

There was a moment, then the chan said, “I can smell him on you.”

Jhamel found herself flushing a little. She knew Andorians had no sense of privacy, living literally on top of each other, but Aenar were less fertile than their passionate cousins, less confined in space because there were fewer of them. She was hardly embarrassed that Telev could smell Shran on her body, but was discomforted that he said as much.

His slightly possessive tone did not ease her either.

“May I have your name?”

“Captain Telev of the Imperial Warship Ariston.”

Telev? That was a name Jhamel had heard quite a few times. And she relaxed at once, extending her antennae in peace and friendship.

“You are most welcome Captain. I’m sure Shran will be happy to see you.”

“Really?” Telev asked coolly, “I’d be surprised, considering he has been ignoring all communications sent to him from me and his family.”

Jhamel gave a slight start of surprise. Shran had not been speaking to his family? She did not ask, deciding it was not her business.

Telev said nothing to her as she brought him into her home and directed him to Shran. Telev sighed quietly, then Jhamel heard him walk over to Shran. What Jhamel perceived as blue, which was how she ‘saw’ Shran, was joined by the soft glittering of Telev and they hovered around each other as Telev snapped,

“Shran, get up!”

Shran snorted, then croaked, “Telev?”

“Yes, I’m pleased to see you recall who I am.”

Shran sighed and Jhamel listened as he got to his feet, “Of course I know you. And yes, I know you’re angry about my ignoring your calls.”

“Then you know why I’m here.”

Shran sighed, “Yes. I know.”

Jhamel swallowed, realising as well why Telev was there.

“Good, get your things, put some clothes on and let’s go.”

Shran did not move. The air crackled and Jhamel knew the two were staring at each other. Telev bubbled with frustration, worry, and love. Shran was full of weary acceptance and expectations. He was waiting for Telev to say something else.

Telev sighed softly and Jhamel perceived the glittering shift closer to the blue, and she could almost feel Telev touching Shran’s face, and heard the soft, wet sound of mouths touching.

“Please, go and get your things and come home with me.” Telev said quietly, his anger abating and his affection swelling.

“Yes Captain.” Shran replied, equally quiet. Jhamel hovered, listening to the quiet sounds of Shran gathering his things. His contentment had been shattered and she wanted to weep for him. Did he not deserve rest and care, at least until his wounds healed?

Suddenly Telev was next to her and she jumped as his hand brushed her neck, surprised he had been able to sneak up on her. Unlike Shran who roared his existence to the world, Telev was almost silent.

Silent but deadly?

“You care for him, don’t you?” he asked, no accusation in his voice.

“Yes.” she whispered, “I wish to help him… I wish to ease his pain.”

Telev’s fingers skimmed her neck again, curling so the knuckles were brushing along her hairline. It was strange, and intimate, and detached all at once.

“This is not how you do it.” he said in a soft voice. “Shran needs his pain to function. You do him no favours by taking it away.”

“No one functions on pain.”

“Shran can.” Telev was so close to her, his breath hot on her skin, it was all so seductive, but there was no hint of desire in her body or in his. Both were focused on Shran, who was either ignoring them, or was lost in thought.

Jhamel bent her antennae inwards and they rubbed against her hair, as if trying to hide.

“You think I am being cruel?” Telev sighed, “But you know nothing of me, do not presume you are the only one to wish him no pain. I have known him far longer than you Aenar. If I had any real power I would keep him safe, but the fact is… that is not what Shran needs, and not what can be allowed. Our world needs Shran to provide guidance, and he needs his pain to keep him focused. If you get to know him beyond initial curiosity, you will learn that contentment does not work for Shran.”

Jhamel did not see how that was possible. Telev chuckled,

“Oh I know, it’s maddening, isn’t it? He’s raw and broken in your hands and you want to put him back together. But he doesn’t know how to exist any other way. Contentment leads to idleness, which leads to disaster for Shran. He needs drive and purpose, and right now that back of his and the shame of his failure will push him to keep working towards what he believes in.”

Jhamel turned towards Telev as Shran walked out of the room.

“I offer him peace and you tell me he cannot have it?”

“I tell you that the peace you offer is his death blow. He is content now, and may have been for a while longer. But soon his contentment would give way to uncertainty of his purpose, to melt into an inability to do a thing, and then he would just… exist. He would slowly fade away and you would wake up and realise he is lost, because you did not free him. You caged him.”

“No!” The image was too horrid to contemplate, but Jhamel was no coward. She refused to believe Telev’s words.

“He is already avoiding calls from playmates, fellow guards, his own family. All because if he stops to think, it all weighs him down and he cannot remember how to swim.” Telev sighed and dipped his head, sniffing at her cheek. “You smell good with his scent on you. They mix well. I rarely make such a claim about other playmates of Shran’s. But your strange Aenar ways will cripple him in the softest of ways, so delicate would you be that he would not realise it until he finds no reason to rise in the morning. And I will not allow that.”

Telev drew away, and as much as it settled her nerves, it also left her chilled.

“Shran is a magnificent creature. And I will not allow a sweet Aenar to spin a web to trap him in… even if you mean well by it.”

“But what if Shran wishes to stay?”

“He may want to right now… he’s tired, he’s hurting. But if he stays here that pain will become poison in his veins, and that is dangerous. Shran is an honourable guard, but he is also dangerous if left unchecked. He needs the Guard, he even needs his Clan Leaders –much as he fights with them.”

Jhamel thought about the wounds on Shran’s back, and shuddered at the idea of returning to the people who had inflicted them.

Telev’s hands cupped her face and she jumped. How did he keep surprising her?

“Do you care about him?”

“I do. He is my friend. He comforted me when Gareb died. He has comforted me at night and I try to do the same in turn.”

Telev’s voice held a smirk, “And I am sure you have done sweet work on him. But it is not enough for Shan. Not in the long term. He’ll self-combust eventually, or worse, fade away.”

“I do not intend-”

“What you intend is irrelevant. That is Shran’s nature. He needs to be fighting, kicking, yelling and dragging the rest of us along with him, or else he feels helpless. He needs to be running around barking orders at soldiers, or knocking sense into ambassadors, or even just doing his damn paperwork. Otherwise he starts thinking too much and then things will turn ugly.”

“You sound certain.” Jhamel knew the two Andorians were intimately close, beyond reason. She could hear it in Shran’s voice when he mentioned him.

Telev gave a soft, slightly bitter chuckle, “Oh I am. I also know Shran will feel very bad for leaving you when you need him. But he will follow orders. So he must make do with being a bit torn. Unless of course, you no longer need him…”

Jhamel stiffened, and then relaxed, realising exactly what Telev was trying to tell her. Shran stayed because of what she offered, and because she needed him. Shran would not care to stay for himself, but he would regret abandoning her.

Jhamel turned her head as Shran re-entered the room.

“Am I interrupting?” he asked in a soft, strained voice. Telev’s hands gently slipped away from Jhamel’s face. Jhamel stepped away from Telev, and moved to Shran, reaching out and smiling when he took hold of her fingers.

“Not at all. I was just telling Captain Telev how kind you have been to me. Thanks to your comfort I will sleep well in my nest.”

Surprise emanated from Shran, but he simply squeezed her fingers and said, “I’m glad I could help.”

Jhamel pushed closer, hoping she said the right thing, “I would be very happy to see you again sometime Shran, when we are both free to meet. Until then, my people have much work for me, as yours have for you.”

The uncertainty radiating from Shran made her back shiver, worried he would feel guilt for leaving her. She reached out and curled her fingers around his left wrist. It was a very curious thing, but doing so often made Shran relax at once, as if it were some sort of trained reaction. Jhamel now touched him to reassure him. She really would be fine without him, though she would miss him.

More importantly, she knew enough about her world and the beyond, to know Shran was still needed out there, and could not remain with her in her world. Not even to let his wounds heal completely.

“Goodbye Shran. May you find happiness and peace in your life again.”

Shran brushed her fingers against his lips, and then the tip of his nose skimmed hers.

“Goodbye Jhamel. May you believe you helped me find some.”

Jhamel’s stomach clenched and she smiled, saying, “I’m glad.” as Shran left her home, Jhamel sensing that Telev had taken his hand, and she found herself imagining what it would be like to share their intimacy.

Next time perhaps.  


**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoy my work please feel free to [buy me a cup of coffee](http://ko-fi.com/notrudeginger)


End file.
